Left Field Love
: Chapter 34

The loud blare of Caleb’s alarm wakes me up—long before I’m ready to be conscious. I roll over, smushing my face against the warm, hard planes of his chest.

“Morning,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair.

It feels amazing. I groan, both from the pleasure and the realization the rest of me feels awful.

I don’t drink and I don’t go to bed late. Last night, I did both. Caleb and I didn’t come up to his bedroom until after two a.m. I think the last time I stayed up that late was our graduation party. And I only had one drink and half of Caleb’s beer. But since my alcohol tolerance might as well not exist, I’m pretty sure my dry mouth and pounding head means I’m hungover.

Caleb slides out from under me and climbs out of bed. I bury my face in his pillow, promising myself I’ll never drink or stay up past midnight again.

“Len.” Something nudges my elbow a little while later. If I didn’t feel so terrible, I’d probably be asleep.

I roll over reluctantly, blinking at the bright sun. Caleb is fully dressed, holding a sports drink out to me.

“It’ll help,” he promises. “Take this too.”

Caleb hands me a small white pill. I sit up to swallow it with the red liquid that tastes like cherries.

“You okay?” He takes a seat on the mattress, watching me with a mixture of concern and amusement.

I lean forward and into him. He smells so good. Like fresh laundry and soap. Clean and masculine. I snuggle into the curve of his neck, my lips brushing his throat.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Just sleepy.”

But I’m awake. I suck at a spot on the side of his neck and Caleb goes rigid, like I electrocuted him. I move to another spot, and he exhales a harsh breath. “I have practice, baby. I’m already running late.”

I pull back and pout.

He grins. “You know, I was thinking I should never let you drink again. But if this is how you act in the morning, maybe I will.”

I finish the sports drink and set the empty bottle on the side table before falling back against the sheets. I’m not wearing anything under the T-shirt I pulled on last night, and I watch him realize that.

Beneath the hangover symptoms, I feel giddy. This feels like such a normal morning, but it’s the first time we’ve woken up in bed together after attending a party the night before. I’ve experienced a lot with Caleb, but this is a first. And frankly, something I never thought I would experience with him.

Caleb takes baseball very seriously. Every time we talked while he was at Mayfair this past summer, he was just coming back from the field, hours after the session had technically ended. I heard the background commentary on his end of the line, the jokes being made about all work and no play.

So, I’m expecting him to kiss me goodbye and head to practice.

Instead, he stands and tugs down his baseball pants, just low enough to free his growing erection. Caleb grins, probably at my shocked expression, then crawls over me.

We both moan when our bodies align, the hard press of him rubbing against sensitive skin.

“I’m already late. So this is going to be hard and fast, Matthews.” That’s all the warning I get, before he’s sliding inside.

Caleb hooks my right knee over his hip, spreading me open and sinking even deeper. Before I’ve fully adjusted to the new angle, he’s withdrawing and then stretching me again, hitting the magical spot that causes my mind to go completely blank.

His thrusts are relentless, building the pleasure higher and higher until it explodes.

I come with a loud cry and then he’s kissing me, muffling the moans with his mouth as I feel the warmth of his release fill me.

He keeps kissing me, even after we’ve both finished. It’s not until his phone begins buzzing that Caleb moves away, pulling out of me and climbing off the bed to zip up his pants.

I stay exactly where I am, sprawled on the mattress half-naked and completely content. I need to go to the bathroom and get cleaned up, especially now. But I soak in the sensation a little longer.

After years of feeling like I was letting Caleb down—living three hours away and never visiting, causing problems between him and his parents—I finally feel like I’m enough for him.

Caleb has never made me feel less, and reasonably, I know that it’s not my fault I needed to take care of Gramps or that my parents made certain no one in Landry would associate the name Matthews with anything positive.

But it still feels really good, to have Caleb looking at me like I’m his whole world and feel like maybe that’s exactly what I am.

He’s mine.

“I’ll talk to you later.” One final kiss, and then he’s gone.

I climb out of bed a few minutes later, stretching before I pull my clothes from last night back on. I’m glad I called Cassie for advice. This isn’t the outfit I would have picked out myself.

Walking downstairs is strange. I’ve never been in the baseball house before without Caleb.

Remains of the party are littered everywhere. I toss a few used cups into the trash as I pass through the living room.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Caleb:Left the truck keys on the counter.

I smile as I head into the kitchen. It hadn’t even occurred to me, until just now, that I had no way to get back to my dorm.

The keys are sitting on the counter, just like he said.

It’s still pretty early, but there are some signs of activity when I walk outside. There’s a middle-aged man walking a yellow lab across the street and a girl who looks to be my age jogging ahead on the sidewalk.

This isn’t the first time I’ve driven Caleb’s truck, but it’s the first time I’ve done so somewhere unfamiliar. All the fancy features that are supposed to make it easier to drive just stress me out. I have to turn on the car to adjust the seat electronically, and an alert begins beeping as soon as I back out of the driveway. I clear out the oil change reminder and continue driving toward campus.

The first thing I do when I return to my dorm room is take a shower. I feel more like myself when I’m back in jeans and a T-shirt rather than a short skirt and lacy top.

Eric texts while I’m brushing my hair, letting me know he’s leaving and asking if he should pick me up. I reply, telling him I’ll meet him there.

I’ve only been downtown a couple of times before, but I replace the tiny theater that showcases independent films easily. Eric is standing outside with two girls and one guy when I approach.

“Hey, Lennon!” Eric greets me with a wide grin.

“Hey, Eric. Hi, everyone.”

“Guys, this is Lennon,” Eric states. “Lennon, this is Amanda, Abby, and Joe.”

“Nice to meet you all,” I say.

Abby and Joe are holding hands, so I assume they’re a couple. Amanda’s sporting a friendly smile and a short bob.

“Nice to meet you, Lennon. Although Eric hasn’t shut up about you, so I sort of feel like I know you already,” Amanda teases, nudging Eric’s arm. His ears go red.

“Eric has been great,” I say, trying to alleviate his embarrassment. “It’s really nice to have someone to ask all my journalism department questions to.”

“Good job, Eric,” Abby says, grinning.

“The school should pay you for driving around the welcome wagon so well,” Joe adds.

I hide a smile. It usually takes me a while to warm up to strangers, but their light-hearted banter is easy to feel at ease among.

“So what made you choose Clarkson?” Amanda asks once we’re inside the theater, waiting for tickets. “Transferring for senior year must have been a hard decision.”

“Uh, yeah, it was,” I reply. “But my old school didn’t have a great journalism program. Plus, my boyfriend goes here, so that’s helped with the adjustment.”

I pretend I don’t see the disappointment flicker across Eric’s face.

“Oh, cool,” Amanda replies. “You should have brought him along.”

I’m tempted to laugh at the thought of Caleb sitting through the documentary we’re about to watch. If it’s not baseball or an action thriller, he couldn’t care less.

“Not really his thing,” I respond.

“Joe didn’t want to come either,” Abby says. “I basically dragged him along. Some feminist you are,” she tells her boyfriend.

“I am a feminist!” Joe insists. “I believe in equal rights. So much so I was going to support a women’s sports event.”

Abby looks unimpressed. “You were going to stare at Sophie St. James, you mean.”

“Sophie St. James?” I repeat.

“She’s on the women’s soccer team. Looks like a supermodel. I have yet to encounter a guy on campus who doesn’t have a thing for her,” Amanda supplies.

“Oh.”

“It’s impossible to keep track of all the sports teams, but there are a few athletes you can’t help but hear about. Over and over again.” Amanda’s voice makes it clear she’s not an avid fan.

“Oh,” I say again.

We get our tickets and then head inside the dark theater. The documentary is engaging, splicing news coverage and reporter research on issues like healthcare, racial injustice, and voting rights. It’s the exact sort of work I’d love to be doing but never thought I’d be able to.

As much as I resent Landry’s elitism, I recognize it just represents one microcosm of society. Big, important newspapers hire graduates from big, important universities. I didn’t have a prayer of getting hired anywhere beside the Landry Gazette with a degree from Richardson Community College. Like it or not—and I don’t—that’s simply the way the world works.

But now…I will be the graduate of big, important university.

And Matthews Farm sold.

I haven’t told Caleb yet. I found out right before his scrimmage yesterday. The realtor called to tell me. It sold for a mind-boggling amount of money. I’m rich, by most people’s measure. I’m no longer tied to Landry and I have the funds to live in a big city on a journalist’s salary.

I have options, and depending on where Caleb gets drafted, I also have decisions to make.

A discussion of the film dominates the conversation as our group exits the dark theater and emerges back on the street. I blink at the sudden sunshine. The painkiller Caleb gave me helped with the headache—and so did the sex—but there’s still a dull throb in my right temple.

Abby suggests heading to a pizza place just down the block. I quickly agree, since I’m starving. I didn’t have time to go to the dining hall after showering and before heading here.

The pizzeria is clearly a popular off-campus hang-out, judging by the number of college students packed inside.

Despite the crowd, the line moves quickly. We all order slices, managing to snag one of the few open booths.

The steaming pizza arrives, and we all dig into the hot food immediately, continuing to talk about the documentary we just saw. For the first time, my comments aren’t being met by bored stares. Aside from Andrew, no one at Landry High shared my passion for journalism. And RCC was known for its business and computer classes. Useful skills. I’m pleasantly surprised how Abby, Amanda, Joe, and Eric all seem just as interested and engaged in writing as I am.

“Great. Baseball team is here,” Joe drones, right as I’m taking a bite of my third slice.

My head snaps to the left, looking at the entrance. The pizzeria’s front door is open, a stream of sweaty guys wearing grass-strained clothes walking in with red faces and joking smiles.

Caleb isn’t with them, but both Garrett and Drew are. I glance back at my pizza.

Clarkson is a big campus. I wasn’t expecting to see the team here, and I feel awkward seeing them without Caleb around. Most of the guys are ones I met last night.

“And…right on cue. Here come the groupies,” Eric laughs, then shakes his head.

All the girls in the booth nearest the door have vacated their spot, approaching the team with hair flips and flirty smiles. They’re the girls I would look ridiculous ever trying to imitate. The girls I spent most of high school thinking Caleb would go for. Always knowing what to do and say and wear. Confident. Cool.

“They’re probably asking where Caleb Winters is,” Amanda comments with a scoff.

My eyes fly to her.

“Yet you also noticed he’s not here,” Eric comments, a smile twisting his lips up.

Amanda glances at me. I must look confused. “Caleb Winters is a senior on the baseball team. He pitches, I think?” She glances at Eric, who shrugs. “Throws the ball. Whatever. I don’t go for the jock type, but he’s stupid hot. And never hooks up with anyone, so getting his attention is kind of a challenge. If he took one look at me and decided to pay attention to anything except baseball… I’m not saying I would take him up on it, but—”

“But you would round some bases,” Abby interrupts, laughing.

Joe and Eric both roll their eyes. But I would bet the large amount of money I’m now in possession of that neither of them are anywhere near as uncomfortable as I am.

I assumed Clarkson was too large for everyone to know who Caleb was. I assumed the social structure was like Landry High’s, where certain groups kept separate and didn’t pay each other much attention.

Wrong on both counts.

I take a bite of pizza to avoid having to contribute to the conversation.

I should tell them who the boyfriend I mentioned earlier is. If we become friends, which I’m hoping we will be, they’ll replace out eventually.

But I have no idea how to say anything now, without it being incredibly awkward. Maybe I should wait until after we’re eating. I can laugh it off right before I leave. If I say something right now, we’ll have to spend the rest of lunch in the aftermath of Amanda mentioning she’s thought about having sex with Caleb. It sounds like she’s never even talked to him. But still, it’s weird. For me. And for her, if she knew I had sex with him a few hours ago.

“Hey, Lennon.” I glance up from my pizza. Garrett is walking by.

“Hey, Garrett,” I respond. I can’t ignore him, and I don’t want to. He didn’t have to acknowledge me, and the fact he did makes me feel more welcome.

“Lennon,” Drew greets as he passes by next, shooting me a quick grin before he follows Garrett.

“Hi, Drew,” I reply.

Two of the girls with them glance back at me, looking confused. More players pass by. And every single one of them greets me by name. Even the ones whose names I don’t know. Or remember, I guess. I must have met them all last night.

The four people I’m sitting with are all staring at me with wide eyes, by the time the baseball team has all passed by. Honestly, they’re not the only ones. People at other tables are staring too.

“Does your dad coach the baseball team or something?” Amanda laughs. “You’re on a first name basis with all the players?”

I pick at my crust. “I barely know them.”

“You barely know them?” Both of Eric’s eyebrows are raised. “It seems like they know you.”

“Just from the party last night,” I reply. “Aside from Garrett and Drew, that was the first time I met most of them.”

“You went to the baseball party last night?” Abby leans forward. “I’m so jealous. They’re super secretive. Invite only. I only replace out about them days later. How did you know there was one last night?”

Awkward or not, I have to tell them now. I toss a burned bit of crust to the side, trying to decide what to say.

“Winters!”

I’m the last one at the table to look toward the door. Abby is no longer waiting for an answer. She’s focused on Caleb entering the pizza place with Elliot right behind him.

“That’s Caleb Winters,” Amanda whispers to me.

I nod in response, watching Caleb say something to Elliot. If this wasn’t so weird, I’d replace it funny.

I know the exact second Caleb spots me. I haven’t texted him since I thanked him for leaving his keys. Didn’t tell him I was coming here after the documentary.

But there’s always been this awareness between us, even before we started dating. I think it happened the first time I saw him, molecules in the air shifting to announce his presence.

Caleb says something else to Elliot, who looks over here as well. Then he heads straight for me, a move I did not see coming in what has already been an eventful morning.

“Is it just me, or is Caleb Winters coming over here?” Amanda whispers to our table.

I don’t have time to answer before he reaches us.

Caleb leans down and gives me a kiss in greeting, not bothering with words. His lips are warm and his mouth tastes like grape, probably from his sports drink.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better.” I nod toward my empty plate. “I just ate my weight in pizza. And what you gave me this morning helped.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know how he’ll interpret them. Caleb laughs, low and husky, as heat floods my cheeks.

“The painkiller,” I clarify.

His blue eyes dance. “I knew what you meant, Matthews.”

“How was practice?” I ask, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

“Well, I was late, so there were laps.”

“Sorry,” I whisper.

He shakes his head once, still amused. “Worth it. You get the truck here without crashing?”

“It’s parked down the street.” I pull his keys out of my pocket and set them on the table. “You’re supposed to take it for an oil change in a hundred miles.”

Caleb smiles, then pushes the keys back toward me. “Keep them. I’ll get a ride back to the house with Drew, then come over later.”

“Okay, sounds good,” I say, then remember where we are. When I glance away from Caleb, Abby is the first person I look at. Her eyes are round, her mouth slightly open.

I clear my throat. “Caleb, this is Eric, Joe, Amanda, and Abby. They all went to the documentary with me.” And apparently, they all already know who he is, but I add, “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Caleb,” just to be polite.

“Nice to meet you guys,” Caleb gives them all a friendly smile, which they all seem too shocked to reciprocate.

He glances to me, one eyebrow raised. I lift a shoulder in response. “How was the documentary?”

“It was amazing,” I answer.

“Good.” Caleb leans down and gives me another kiss, then straightens and nods to the rest of my table. His gaze returns to me. “Bye, Len.”

“Bye.”

Caleb leaves, heading toward the booth the baseball team took.

Total silence lurks in the wake of his departure.

“Oh. My. God?” Amanda whispers. “Your boyfriend who goes here is Caleb Winters and I…” Her voice trails, eyes still impossibly wide.

“No wonder the team all stopped,” Joe says. “Winters carries some serious weight on the team.”

“And here I was, thinking maybe they just liked me.” I smile, then take a sip of my water.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. That’s not what I meant.” Joe quickly backtracks, and my attempt to lighten the mood just made everything weirder.

“It’s fine. I was kidding,” I tell him.

“You could have mentioned you knew him sooner,” Eric tells me.

“I know,” I reply. “I had no idea you guys would have any idea who he is. Once I realized, I wasn’t sure what to say.”

“I’m so mortified,” Amanda says. “Did I seriously say—”

“That you wanted to hook up with Lennon’s boyfriend?” Abby finishes. “Yeah, you did.”

Amanda looks to me. “I had no idea you guys were dating. Claire Olsen told me he was single. I’m so sor—”

I start laughing. “I know. It’s fine. Really.”

There’s a stretch of silence, then Abby speaks. “How long have you guys been dating?”

“Almost three years. We went to high school together.”

“And you did long distance up until now?”

I nod.

“Wow. That must have been hard.”

“It was,” I reply. “But it never felt like we were that far apart.”

Which is a relief to recall, considering we’ll face more separation. Even if we end up living in the same place after graduation, professional baseball players travel plenty.

Eric mentions the spring electives that were just posted, and the conversation moves on from Caleb and me.